


You're Still Here Beside Me

by michaelWayland



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 06:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18586060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michaelWayland/pseuds/michaelWayland
Summary: Miss Potts has always been kind and generous to him, making sure he feels at home every time he crashes by. He appreciates the effort, really, but no offense to her, the Compound stopped feeling like his home after the death of the one person who makes it his second haven. Besides, he doesn't have a place there.





	You're Still Here Beside Me

**Author's Note:**

> Living in an asian country means i get to see Endgame way ahead of everybody else. If none of you bothered to read the tags, I shall warn you again: major spoilers ahead of this one shot. I have to write this down. I am so moved by the ending.

It had been one thing to turn to dust at a snap, clinging on to one of the persons in his life that he had grown attached to as he frantically rambled while all of his five senses have gone haywire out of sheer desperation.  It had been another to feel like sleeping after disintegrating, an endless and painless dream that felt like a lazy nap. It had been an entirely different thing to wake up and be told that the short slumber you have taken spanned five years. 

 

Peter could not believe it, could hardly process it. The first thing he thought of was May. Did she found out about his ordeal? Was she snapped too? More than anything else, he wanted to call her, tell her he's okay — but he knew he couldn't. For one, he was light years away from her. He was alive, and more than anything, he wanted to go home. But there's a war to be fought. 

 

_You can't be the friendly neighbor Spiderman if there's no neigbourhood._

 

In the battlefield, after spawning from Dr. Strange's portal, he met the gaze of his mentor. Deep down, he knew Mr. Stark had saved him and many more. The little fanboy in him swelled with pride. Of course Mr. Stark and the Avengers would save the day. 

 

Their reunion was shortlived. He took the opportunity to ramble about the rather strange experience to a familiar face because everything was so weird, but Mr. Stark had caught him off guard by pulling him into a hug. He was puzzled — Mr. Stark was never the touchy feely kind of person after all — but he basked nonetheless even though there was a war to be fought, and they are in the middle of the cross fire. 

 

To this day, he can still feel the weight of the infinity gauntlet when it was passed to him. His body can still feel the adrenaline rush he got after activating Instant Kill. He can still hear the guttural cries of the aliens, the sounds of metal clanging against each other. The metallic scent from Thor's hammer still lingers in the air. There was a flash of light, and Peter can still recall how the aliens disintegrated like he did. The war is over in the blink of an eye, and relief flooded over him. He helped save the universe, and now he finally gets to go home. 

 

Victory didn't came without a cost though. The price was rather hefty. Peter went home, and after going back to Earth, he found himself attending yet another funeral of a father figure he had for a short time. 

 

He remembers everything, and his mind makes sure that he does. There would be nights where he'll wake up screaming, trying to rid his lungs of dust. Some nights would be dedicated to an up close view of the monsters, which leaves him in a puddle of his own sweat. Every night, however, he dreamt of Mr. Stark. A good night will entail him with the moments he shared with Mr. Stark down his lab, real or fabricated, and he'll wake up feeling light, a sad smile plastered across his face; a bad night would mean seeing Mr. Stark's lifeless body on alien soil, or in a coffin, and if his mind feels particularly generous Uncle Ben's dead body would be present too. On those particular nights, he'll wake May with his crying. 

 

It was never the same after he went back home. 

 

He was still the friendly neighbour Spiderman, but underneath the mask, he's Peter Parker who lost just a few more shards of his heart. He never let his emotions get through him in his line of work, no. 

 

"Incoming _Call from: May Parker"._ Karen's soft voice prompted him. 

 

"No, Karen, wait!" He said as he dodged a knuckled fist. "Put her on hold."

 

"Who the fuck is Karen?" The ski-masked robber has the nerve to inquire. 

 

"Your mama!" Peter rebutted and landed a hook right on the man's face. The baby monitor is still working. The video feeds will be sent to one of the servers back at the Compound. He doesn't have the means to disable it, but he isn't planning on doing so. He's fully aware that nobody will bother checking on him through it, but he kept the protocol nonetheless. He webbed the robber on the floor, handed the purse back to the lady clutching her necklace (who mumbled her thanks) and headed for the nearest rooftop.

 

"Hey, May." He answered. 

 

"Hey yourself." May chided on the other line with no real heat. "I thought you were gonna pack your stuff from the Compound?"

 

Peter felt something in him swell of bitterness. "Right, yeah, but Karen notified me of this robbery on the way so I figured I should stop by." He masked the bitter taste with coyness. 

 

Aunt May paused. Peter bit the inside of his cheek. She always knew what he felt, regardless if he says it or not. No amount of masking can hide it. "You know you don't have to, right?"

 

"Yeah." Peter nodded to himself, an act of self-reassurance. "B-but my stuff's been taking a lot of space there and I probably need it so..." 

Aunt May hummed. "Well, I'll be leaving for my shift now. There's pizza on the table."

"Thanks, May." Peter bit his lip. "Love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart." May replied. "Now, go get your stuff and get some rest."

 

Peter web-slinged  all the way to the Compound in a trance. During the trip he had to constantly remind himself that he's heading there to get his stuff. Nobody called him to have the 13% damage his suit had sustained be repaired nor to inquire why they got a notification from Friday on a bruised rib or a shallow cut.  He can't believe he'll  be taking his stuff with him for good. Miss Potts has always been kind and generous to him, making sure he feels at home every time he crashes by. He appreciates the effort, really, but no offense to her, the Compound stopped feeling like his home after the death of the one person who makes it his second haven. Besides, he doesn't have a place there. He was knighted as an Avenger, yes, but the only other person who knew about it is six feet beneath the ground. At best, he'll probably get benched. Miss Potts have always treated him like family, but Peter can't help but feel invasive on her and her daughter. 

 

When he had told Miss Potts of his plan to bring his stuff to MIT with him, she showed her support, though she failed to hide her sadness beneath it. She told him that she figured if she can help Peter achieve his dreams by giving him a full ride in MIT, she could help him sort through his stuff. 

 

He took Mr. Stark's personal elevator and headed for the lab. "Here's your floor, Peter." Friday had informed him. At the back of his head, he heard her add that Mr. Stark is expecting him. It had been years, yet his memories that involved Mr. Stark never faded, still echoing in full clarity inside his headspace. 

 

He stepped into the lab, and as the door opened to a hiss, he was greeted with a cold wave of air. The only sound he can pick up was Dum-E's monotone whirring as the robot mopped non-existent dirt on the floor. The robot noticed him, dim lights blinking rather faintly in recognition and made a sound that can be classified as rambling chatter as the bot headed towards him. "Hey." Peter said in a small voice. He patted the bot, which drew it in and allowed itself to let out somber noises. Dum-E pointed at the stack of storage boxes at a corner. There was a sticky note attached. It read:

 

_Hi, Peter!_

_I'm sorry i couldn't make it in time. There was an emergency meeting. Be up there as soon as I can._

 

_-Pepper_

 

He's not surprised nor was he disappointed. Humming to an AC/DC song Mr. Stark would usually play while working, he picked up a box and headed for his workstation. There weren't much to pack, really, since most of the stuff here belongs to Mr. Stark. He just sorted through a couple pens and flash drives, through the scattered documents containing his web shooter formulas (with footnotes from Mr. Stark), through the various textbooks Mr. Stark has generously lent him, and compiled it inside his box. He also packed his toolkit courtesy of the owner of the place. 

 

It puzzled him when his stomach started growling at him after doing minimal work. But then, he hadn't eaten anything before he went here. Thanking his luck that he brought twenty dollars with him, he grabbed the phone and placed two orders of 'their usual'  on the Thai restaurant he loves. Putting the phone down after confirming his order, he decided to head for his room and change into civilian clothes. He settled for sweatpants and a faded My Chemical Romance shirt he's certain he never owned yet fits him snugly. He supposed old habits die hard, so he mindlessly tinkered with a web shooter prototype in his station to pass the time. 

 

The food arrived twenty minutes later. Peter had to head to the main entrance to pick up the food, pretending not to be unsettled with the silence enveloping the hallways. It was past working hours, and is nearing his bed time. 

 

When he went back, Dum-E took initiative and cleaned one of the spare tables inside the lab. Peter set the food down, and began eating in uncomfortable silence. The food was good, but when he tries to indulge himself to the flavor he can't help but feel that something is missing. "Friday?" He piped in. "Would you mind turning the room temperature up? It's kinda chilly in here." 

"Sure thing, Peter." The A.I gradually adjusted the temperature to a far more tolerable level, and he isn't shivering any more. He blames the thin fabric clothing his body.

The silence was broken shortly afterwards, when Miss Potts' kitten heels started echoing inside the place like gunshots. "Hey" she greeted. She steeled her facade upon noticing the boy's familiar shirt.  Peter looked up to her in surprise. Her hair is in a neat ponytail, but Peter can see her weariness all over her face. Worry lines marred her forehead, but she never bothered covering it up with make up. "Did you started?" Miss Potts clasped her hands. Peter quickly chowed his food inside his mouth down.

 

"Yes, Miss Potts." He gestured towards the full box. "I don't have much stuff in here. It's gonna get more tedious when we get to my room. Thanks for helping me pack. Y-you don't have to, but..." he waved his arms awkwardly and tried for a smile. 

 

Miss Potts dismissed him. "Call me Pepper, Peter. But you're welcome." She eyed the extra food on the table. She just had a quick bite before heading here for the task, yet the meal piqued her curiosity. Peter would never order extra food for himself even if he needs it. Not knowing how is she gonna voice her curiosity any other way, she said, "Were you expecting someone else?"

 

Peter followed her gaze. The food. Right. "Oh, um, well I ordered for myself and —" he abruptly halted himself when he just realized what exactly he had done. Only then, did he realized that he was completely alone. "I... Ordered. For myself." He closed his eyes, gulped, and looked down at his lap out of sheer embarrassment. "I ordered way too much." He choked back a sob. It had been years after Mr. Stark's death, yet here he is, subconsciously doing the things he'd do with him. 

 

He doesn't understand. He mourned him. Every day, every night. Miss Potts seemed to have moved on, why can't he?

 

"Oh, Peter." Pepper sighed. She stared at the boy in front of her, doing his best to keep it together. "May I?"

 

Peter jumped out of his seat and willingly accepted Miss Potts' embrace. He let out a web sob while leaning on her shoulder. The widow rubbed his back comfortingly. "I miss him, Miss Potts." He bit his trembling lip. 

 

"Me too." Pepper reassured him.

 

Peter broke from the hug. "I'm sorry." He gestured wildly at the food, at his shirt that wasn't even his. "This is so embarrassing  and weird, me acting like he's here with me —"

 

"Oh, but he's here." Pepper tapped his chest where his heart is lightly. "In here. Knowing Tony, he never left. He's with you every step of the way. I'm sure of it." Pepper let out a soft laugh that has nothing but sadness and fondness to it. "You are perfectly allowed to miss him, Peter. Don't be embarassed.Hell —" she mused more to herself, "I miss him too. Every day. I can totally relate with the whole acting like he's here thing." 

 

Pepper thought of the nights where she'll go to bed feeling heavy, but not sure which side she should be lying on since Tony tends to be unpredictable when it comes to his bed side preference. Late at night when she wakes and finds Tony isn't beside her, she'll head for the workshop, only to find it dark and quiet. She'll wake up in the morning running her arm beside her, hoping to find him, and then groggily realizes that he isn't there. 

 

To this day, sometimes Pepper still brews black coffee in the coffee maker. Rhodey would stare at her out of pity and sadness whenever she realizes that she brewed the wrong coffee again, and it took her months to get used to the gaze.

She mourned. She moved on. But she still can't shake the old habits off. 

"I also feel stupid." Pepper disclosed. Peter is now all ears, wiping the tears on his face with his hands. "But it's perfectly normal. We don't want to lose something familiar, and it's okay. Our actions go to show that we loved him so, so much."

Pepper reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "It might take a long time to shake the old habits off, but the important thing is you love him. I love him. We are both honoring him."

 

"Yeah." Peter took a swig off his soda. The sugar rush helped him loosen up a bit. "Thanks for the, for the Pep talk, Miss Potts." Peter's eyes widened when he realized what he just said. "Pep talk." He chuckled. "Man, Mr. Stark would be laughing at that."

 

Pepper allowed herself to smile fondly at a memory. "Yeah, he totally would."

 

"But really." Peter smiled back at her, and Pepper saw the boy that wormed his way through Tony's heart once again. "Thank you, maam."

 

"You are always welcome, Pete." She awkwardly ruffled his hair. "But really, stop with the formalities. It makes me feel old."

 

Pepper let him finish the meals before they proceeded to the task. A casual trip to the memory lane was held once more when they got to his room. There was a nostalgic feeling as they packed, for every aspect of Peter's life in the compound linked through the items are ingrained with every bit of Mr. Stark. When they are done, Peter had decided to call May to tell her he's staying for the night, partly because he's exhausted. 

 

Later that night, Peter dreamed that he's in the workshop. AC/DC was blasting through the speakers. Dum - E is wiping off motor oil. He's tinkering with his web formulas, and Mr. Stark is working on one of his nano tech suits.

 

 

 


End file.
